4:45. Way too early to get out of bed, but Patrick had put his rear end in my face, so I woke up. He always liked to snuggle between Mike and me, especially at this time of the morning. I just wish he wouldn’t purr so loud when he did it. He sounded like the gears grinding in the candy factory in Willie Wonka. Why’d he have to purr so much? Agnes didn’t purr anywhere near as much as Patrick.
I doubted that I’d sleep even another hour. I’d gone to sleep last night after twelve minutes of watching that Keeping Up Appearances episode we’d put into the DVD player, not long after Hyacinth had terrorized Emmett with an operatic rendition of “come on over for coffee,” but just before Elizabeth came in for said cup of coffee and broke yet another of Hyacinth’s periwinkle blue Wedgewood china.
So I got out of bed and pet Chester the D.O.G. He’d been a good dog lately. Perhaps getting the two kittens had worked well for him. Ever since they’d arrived, he’d been on good behavior with the neighbors – no more biting elderly neighbors’ nursing assistants. That reminded me – I’d need to feed the animals. Agnes was in the other room, meowing, which for her meant only that she was hungry. So I went out to the kitchen and filled the cat bowls – sugar ants, note to self, call the exterminator – and then Chester’s dog bowl, and the three bowls of water. More ants on the floor by Chester’s bowl.
So I went through my usual morning routine – feeding the animals, cleaning out the cat box, emptying the wastebaskets, clearing the dishwasher, making coffee, juicing the just-barely-in-season oranges, wiping down the countertop – and had my usual yogurt and banana for breakfast. Had to eat real food, after all – if I didn’t, I’d feel sick to my stomach in an hour. Those Daily One caps always did that to me.
Once I’d cleaned up from breakfast, I checked the clock – 6:30. Wow, had the time gone by. So I went upstairs and organized my files. I’d been meaning to do that for weeks, ever since being appointed Mark’s executor. His papers were scattered in umpteen files. The file drawers were by the window, and when I stood up to get them, Rhoda walked by. Good old Rhoda, my neighbor for the last seven years – she always walked by in the morning, no doubt on her way downstairs, ever since she and Norman had started shacking up. What a great way to spend your seventies!
She looked in the window for a second, and then darted her eyes away. Oh, dear, I think she saw me. But anyway – back to the files. Ah, yes. There’d be the estate taxes to do, there’d be the house to sell – what about that renter who wanted it for the summer? Bad idea, I thought … she might squat, and then I couldn’t get rid of her. She’d already said she wanted me to have the house painted before she moved in – which meant I’d have to fly up to the Hamptons to take care of it. And she wanted to move there in just two weeks.
When would I have the time for a trip? Today was Sunday, I’d be working during the week, and next weekend I’d have to go to Hilton Head and find another nursing home for Dad. This time, he’d need a Memory Care Unit with lockdown. He’d wandered away from their current place one too many times. And what would I do with Mom, if Dad moved to his own facility? She’d be unable to go see him. All she could do at this point was lift her right arm a little. That wheelchair was her life – and telling Dad what to do.
I’ve missed the Round Robin. It’s nice to be back in the group after my winter break from it. I needed the time off in order to finish my novel’s final draft, and now that’s done, I can write more for fun. And clearly, I’ll be able to abundantly utilize as many adverbs as I subconsciously or consciously want.
I heard rumblings from the bedroom. Mike cleared his throat, the toilet flushed, the water ran at the sink. He came out to the kitchen, his hair a bird’s nest on top of his head. When would he ever get a hair cut? Didn’t he know that I like short hair on my men?
“Good morning, honey,” he said. “It’s 8:00. Don’t you think you should put on some clothes if you’re going to stand by the window?”
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